


Coffee

by addicted_2_fandoms



Series: Lexi's Whamilton Week 2020 [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (Alex's Mother), Alexander Hamilton Loves Coffee, Alexander Hamilton has Nightmares, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys In Love, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Coffee, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Insecure Alexander Hamilton, Insomniac Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Nightmares, Romantic Fluff, Sharing Clothes, Sleepy Alexander Hamilton, Whamilton Week, Whamilton Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addicted_2_fandoms/pseuds/addicted_2_fandoms
Summary: “Is that the only word you know how to say, little one? You want coffee?"OrIt's honestly too early in the morning too early in the morning to function but Alex has worked out he wants two things, coffee and George and preferably in that order.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington
Series: Lexi's Whamilton Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818244
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Whamilton Week 2020!!!! You can also find it on my tumblr account under Lexi Lucacia!

It was almost a perfect morning, George woke up early just to see the sun shining on Alex’s face. Illuminating him, like the god he thought he was. Personally George agreed, but it wouldn’t do  _ anyone, _ any good to give him a more inflated sense of self or boost his ego too much. 

That being said, he was also quite insecure about the things that mattered. The matters of his birth, the hurricane on his island, his mum dying. All he would openly share but at night was when the nightmares and crying would kick in. He’d cower at the sound of thunder, blame himself for his mother’s passing. All George could do on those nights was hold him closer and tell him where he was, that he was safe. Offering reassurance that he was in their dingy apartment in New York, not in a shack in Nevis, or wherever he actually came from.

A lot of nights though, he would stay up until the early hours of the morning, reviewing documents, looking over cases, rewording documents. George could never get him to stop. So on mornings like this, early Saturday mornings where he knew for a fact neither had anything on, he let the man sleep. God knows he doesn’t get enough anyway.

He slipped out of the Caribbean man’s arms, smiling fondly at the whine that escaped the sleeping man as he latched onto a pillow and snuggled back to sleep. He savoured the moments for just another minute before enacting his plan. 

He was gonna cook the best damn breakfast in bed, Alex had ever had. If he’d ever had one, that is. It was all going well, the bacon was cooking nicely, the eggs didn’t have too many shells and he’d long perfected the art of cooking toast. The setting you put it on, the temperature of the bread. He had it down to a science. There was only one last thing he had to put on, he’d already boiled the water and ground the beans and that was…

“Coffee.” A tired looking, young man staggered out of the room George had left not even an hour ago. He cursed himself for not being quicker, as he knew that Alex was still quite an early riser, even after a late night on a weekend. Especially when George wasn’t there to coax him back into bed.

“Haven’t put it on yet love, just about to. Didn’t realise you’d be up so soon.” The older man turned to engulf Alex in a hug, kissing the tip of his nose and smiling fondly.

Alex cocked his head sideways, seemingly not understanding a word George had just said. George had to swallow his cooing, Alex was adorable when he woke up, with his bed hair and wearing a pair of glasses as everything was quite blurry in the morning. He was also still in George’s shirt, with a pair of tracksuit pants and was rubbing his eyelids with the palm of his hand. 

This time George couldn’t stop his coo, Alex whined at him, nuzzling George’s hand as if it would speed up the process of making coffee. It didn’t. 

“Coffee?” He whimpered again.

George pinched his cheeks. “Is that the only word you know how to say, little one? You want coffee?”

It was then the coffee pot stopped boiling and George was quick to drop a sugar cube and a splash of milk into the cup. Alex took the cup gratefully, moaning as he took a large sip and burning his tongue, like he had so many times before. Luckily George remembered this time to put some cooler water into the coffee, so he wouldn’t get too burnt.

“Thanks.” Alex’s voice was sleepy and he rubbed his face against George’s shirt, itching his nose and nursing his coffee cup. It was warming up his cold hands, as it was a winter’s morning. The cup itself was Alexander’s favourite bought by George on his first day of his new job. It read ‘My Work Is My Legacy, Yours Is Formatted Wrong’. 

He found it very amusing and often brought it to meetings where he thought the people were incompetent or arseholes, or in some cases, both. These meetings included Thomas Jefferson, the pompous arsehole who thought the world revolved around him and would slam Hamilton at every turn. Aaron Burr, who was a great lawyer, but outside the courtroom didn’t have a backbone or make a decision to save his life. Clients from other companies like Samuel Seabury, a stickler for the rules and Charles Lee, who was now permanently banned from the office after a punch up with Alex’s best friend, John. 

But he wasn’t thinking about that right now, in fact, it was one of the rare mornings where he was just thinking about how lucky he was to be alive in that moment. How lucky he was to spend it with George, how good his friends were, how grateful he was to have his job and everything that had led him up to this point in life. 

Yeah, everything in his life was good, even for just a moment and he wouldn’t trade his George for anything in the world, he was so good and kind and dealt with all his annoying habits. He couldn’t ask for anything more, besides, who was he to pass up the free coffee? Especially as good as this.


End file.
